


Everything To Lose

by Miko



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4153110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating and flirting has always come easily to Bucky, but when it comes right down to it, that's because it never mattered to him what the response was. There's always someone else to flirt with.</p><p>When it's Steve, though, all the rules change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything To Lose

Friday and Saturday nights were Bucky’s saving grace, the one thing that could shore him up and get him through the rest of the week. He knew Steve thought it was their double dates Bucky looked forward to. And why wouldn’t he think that, when Bucky had a different dame on his arm every weekend?

Steve had no fucking clue. The dates weren’t for Bucky’s benefit, they were for Steve’s. It was the only Goddamned way Bucky had found to get the dames to even look at his best friend, by tricking them into it. He kept hoping if he just tried hard enough, long enough, eventually he’d find one that was willing to see past the surface to discover the absolutely amazing guy Bucky had known all along. Steve deserved that, he deserved to feel happy and wanted and just... yeah. He deserved it all.

Stevie tried, he really did. He was awkward and shy and nervous, but that innate stubbornness kept him doggedly making the attempts. One by one, like clockwork, the dames turned up their noses and Steve would eventually give up and go home to wait for Bucky to ‘finish his date’. 

Any interest Bucky did have in the girls was gone the moment they spurned his best friend. Steve only wanted to spend time with people who could look past the surface of a guy - well, so did Bucky. Shallowness had never been an appealing trait to him.

So he waited until Steve was safely out of sight, maybe had a dance or two for the sake of appearances and because that was the part Bucky did enjoy, and excused himself politely but firmly. The funniest part was that it had earned him a reputation as a gentleman instead of a guy out to get some, so the girls flocked to him.

No, it wasn’t the dates that Bucky looked forward to on the weekends. Or at least, not the ones he went on with Steve.

The entertainment at Gloria’s was decent, if somewhat skewed to the ‘pansy’ acts, but it was the atmosphere Bucky came for. Relaxed, open, unjudging - a place for guys who sang in falsetto and dolls who sang in bass, he’d heard one of the other patrons describe it. Bucky did neither, but that wasn’t the point. It was somewhere he didn’t have to _hide_. If an attractive guy paraded past and he felt like checking the fella out, he could do that and not have to worry about whether the police were lurking nearby to arrest him for indecency. Or worry about whether Steve would catch him at it.

And if he felt like doing more than just checking the fella out, well. Gloria’s was pretty good for that, too.

Not so great for the drinks, though. Draining the last of his beer, Bucky grimaced. You never got the same swill twice here, and never mind what the label on the bottles or kegs might say. That was the same as all the mob-run establishments, though, and those were the only places it was safe for guys like him to be.

“Another triple ‘D’ night, honey?” the lady behind the bar - Rudy might not technically be a dame, but she was one hundred percent lady when she got all dolled up as Ruby - asked as she set another mug down for him.

“Triple ‘D’?” Bucky repeated, confused.

She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand as he reached for the drink. “Disastrous Double Date.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bucky sighed and took a swig. He was drinking too fast and he knew it, but damn it, tonight even the crowd at Gloria’s wasn’t enough to improve his bad mood. “The broad didn’t even stick around long enough to bother learning Steve’s _name_ , just remembered she’d left her stove on and had to run home.”

“Ouch.” Ruby gave an exaggerated wince. “Ooh, that’s gotta sting. Poor kid.”

“Why are they all so fucking blind?” Bucky lamented. “Every Goddamned one of ‘em. He’s amazing, he’s seriously the best guy I’ve ever known, all heart and soul and stubborn determination to do the right thing. He never backs down and he never gives up and he _cares_ so fucking much, Ruby. About everybody and everything. He’s smart as a whip and he’s got the funniest sense of dry humour you ever heard, he’s an artist and a dreamer and the most romantic guy ever. Any dame should be down on her knees thanking God he’d be willing to go with her, not fleeing the sight of him. It ain’t even like he’s ugly, just... little.”

“Oh, honey.” Ruby’s smile went from sympathetic to downright compassionate. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

“That’s the irony, ain’t it?” Bucky sighed and took another drink, staring down into the brown liquid morosely. “They can have him and don’t want him, and I’d give anything to have him and can’t. Can’t even let myself think about it if I don’t wanna lose his friendship.”

“I’d say you need to stop drowning your sorrows and go find someone to keep you distracted,” Ruby said firmly.

“Tried that every weekend,” Bucky pointed out with a snort. “Ain’t worked yet.”

“I’ve seen the fellas you step out with,” she replied, wiping the bar top with a rag. “All big and handsome like you. Why don’t you try something different? Pick one of the ‘ladies’, or a pretty fairy boy. Hell, I’ll take you home and show you the time of your life if you wait ‘til my shift is done.”

“I’d take you up on it sweetheart, but I doubt you or any of them would be interested in what I’m after,” Bucky sighed. “If I wanted to stick my dick in something, I can make a fist for that.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” she acknowledged. “Not all the little fellas are fairies, though. I know you probably think avoiding anyone who looks like him is a good idea, but maybe what you need to do is purge it instead.”

“Maybe,” Bucky admitted thoughtfully. It was true that he’d always avoided anyone who looked at all like Steve, on the assumption that it would only hurt more and fan the flames. Ruby could be right, and it would let him work off the obsession instead.

“Your boy’s a blond, right?” Ruby smiled and pointed discreetly towards the other end of the bar. “How about that one over there? He’s pretty cute, for a little punk, and he doesn’t seem very fey.”

Glancing across the room, Bucky choked on the mouthful of beer he’d just taken. The mug fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, thankfully only to the bar top and not the floor, but it still made a hell of a mess. Ruby gave a shriek of dismay and hastily stemmed the worst of the flood with her rag, but it didn’t help much.

“Oh my God,” Bucky gasped when he got some air back, utterly panicked. He cringed behind the big mountain of a guy sitting beside him when the blond across the way turned to see what had made Ruby scream, confirming what Bucky had already known just from the first glimpse. “Oh my _God_ , what the fuck is he doing in this place? How the hell did he even know to come looking for me here? Did he see me?”

Steve. It was Steve. There was no way Bucky could ever mistake the stubborn slope of those skinny shoulders, the bump of his frequently broken nose in profile, or the way his friend always tugged at his sleeves when he got nervous.

Bucky had always feared that one of these nights Steve would change his mind and come back to the date, or need Bucky for some reason and try to find him. But why would he be searching here, of all places?

“That’s your fella?” Ruby asked, surprised. She took another look, and smiled. “Well, you’re right about one thing. Those dames ain’t paying nearly enough attention. Wrong about the other thing though.”

“Other thing?” Bucky asked, strangled. He was debating making a run for the door, but there was only the one exit and Steve was between him and it. There was surely no way he’d get past his friend without being spotted.

“I don’t think he’s here looking for you, honey.”

Turning, Bucky stared at her incredulously. Her smile was still sympathetic, but it had more than a little slyness to it as well as she tipped her head back towards Steve. 

Swallowing hard, Bucky glanced at his friend again, peering around the shoulder of the mountain. And what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

Steve was _sitting_ at the bar, not standing there searching. He had a drink in front of him, though he wasn’t touching it, and he was chatting with the fella next to him. The look on his face was a combination of the shy awkwardness he displayed around women, and...

And the way he was with Bucky. Interested, animated, engaged. Full of life and passion despite his uncertainty, not wooden or mechanical. Suddenly Bucky had more appreciation for why the girls always turned Steve down, because he hadn’t realized how much better his friend looked when he wasn’t scared stiff.

Or maybe it wasn’t fear. That was the one thing Bucky had never understood, because Steve was damned near fearless about everything else in his life and yet he was too anxious to put three words together in front of a dame. Bucky had written it off as accumulated trauma after all the failed attempts over the years.

What if it was disinterest instead?

Something cool and smooth nudged his hand, breaking Bucky’s shocked contemplation of his best friend. He looked over to see Ruby offering him a tumbler with a finger of clear amber liquid in it, nothing like the swill they passed off as beer. Still far from being top shelf, undoubtedly, but an improvement. “I can’t afford that,” he objected, his voice shaking.

“On the house,” Ruby assured him. “Drink up and go get ‘em, slugger. Before that fella beats you to it.”

That was a distinct possibility, judging by the flush riding Steve’s cheeks, visible even in the dim lighting of the bar thanks to his fair skin. Bucky felt something go hard inside him as determination settled in. Hell, no.

Accepting the drink, he knocked it back and allowed himself one moment to appreciate the smooth burn as the liquor went down. Leaning over the bar, he kissed Ruby on the cheek for a thank you, and then strode over to the other side of the room.

The closer he got, the harder Bucky’s heart pounded, until he was sure it was about to shatter his ribs. And yet somehow it felt like it was lodged in his throat as well, blocking all his air. He’d never been the shy one. It was easy with dames because he really didn’t care much if they liked him, so he had nothing to lose. It was almost as easy for him in places like this, though. He didn’t have much to lose with anybody here either, when it came right down to it.

But this wasn’t just anybody. This was Steve. 

This time Bucky had _everything_ to lose.

His friend was facing the wrong way to see him coming, but the guy chatting him up gave Bucky the evil eye to try to warn him off. Bucky was having none of it, and he came to a halt just behind Steve’s shoulder. When he spoke his voice was husky, but he managed to keep it steady with a hope and a prayer. “Fancy meeting you in a place like this.”

Wow, that was an incredibly bad line. Normally that sort of thing came naturally to Bucky, but his charm appeared to have fled him along with his easy courage.

Steve blinked, turned, and did the most comical double-take Bucky had ever seen. “Oh my God... Buck... what are you... how did you _find_ me?”

The near-perfect echo to Bucky’s own reaction was the final confirmation. If Steve was panicking because he thought Bucky had caught him out, then he obviously wasn’t here looking for Bucky.

“I didn’t,” Bucky admitted with forced casualness, struggling hard for a light, uncaring tone. “Ruby pointed you out.” He nodded at the bartender, who gave them a saucy wink and blew a kiss in their direction.

Steve was staring at him like a stunned jackrabbit, uncomprehending and alarmed. “Is there a problem here?” the big guy who’d been flirting with him demanded, looming over Steve like he was trying to be protective.

If he only knew. Steve might not look like much, and yeah he got beat up on a regular basis, but he’d _never_ needed protecting. Backing up, yes. Coddling, no.

“Why would there be a problem with a fella buying his best friend a drink?” Bucky retorted, and let a hard edge creep into his expression as he stared the guy down. There was absolutely no fucking way he was backing off, no matter the cost. Not on this fight. This was the hill he would die on, if need be.

Perhaps seeing that, the guy sighed and polished off the last of his own drink. “Good luck. He’s playing hard to get,” he grumbled, and melted into the crowd.

“I’m not... I mean, I didn’t... I mean, it’s not what it looks like,” Steve stammered, as flustered as he ever got with the dames. How the hell he thought he was going to convince Bucky it ‘wasn’t what it looked like’ in _this_ dive, Bucky had no idea. Then again, he didn’t think Steve’s brain was really all that engaged in what was coming out of his mouth at the moment.

Which was good, in a weird way, because the more Steve floundered the more Bucky felt like he was getting his feet back under him. It meant that the impossible was, in fact, true. “Really?” he asked, feigning disappointment. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pay for the drink before coming over here, then.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him a couple of times, and appeared to stop panicking long enough to actually take notice of Bucky’s equally nervous smile and open - if somewhat tense - body language. Shock turned to wonder, and terror morphed slowly into disbelieving hope. “Bucky?”

“You coulda just told me to quit it with the dates, you know,” Bucky said, shrugging. He settled onto the bar stool the other guy had just vacated, eyes locked on Steve’s face like a compass needle with a magnet. “God knows I wouldn’t have minded not needing to search out a new ditzy dame with a friend every weekend. Was afraid I was gonna run outta options, soon.”

“I, uh. I figured I hadda at least try,” Steve said, his voice unsteady and rough. “I mean, I want a family and all that. I like dames well enough, it’s just they all seem so...”

“Shallow?” Bucky suggested with a wry smile when Steve seemed to stumble.

“Boring,” Steve admitted with a grimace, and Bucky laughed. “And shallow, yeah, that too. I get tired of being looked at like a bug they’re not sure if they should step on or not. I don’t... I don’t get that, here.”

That seemed to suggest this wasn’t the first time Steve had come to a place like this. Bucky wondered how often, and how they’d managed to miss each other all this time. Well, that part wasn’t so surprising. There were dozens of mob-run bars scattered around, though Gloria’s was one of the best and where Bucky usually ended up.

“So, are you gonna let me buy you that drink?” he asked, as close as he could come to asking the question he really wanted to have answered.

Steve glanced at the still-untouched mug of beer on the bar in front of him, then licked his lips and gave Bucky a smile that started out shy but grew rapidly. “If the drinks taste as bad as they look, I’d rather not. It’s not like we need to sit around getting to know each other first, right?”

‘First’. It was that ‘first’ that caught at Bucky’s heart and started it flip-flopping, until it felt like he was being turned inside out. ‘First’ implied there would be a ‘second’, and maybe more. 

“I dunno, Stevie. Apparently we don’t know each other as well as we thought we did,” Bucky acknowledged ruefully. 

“Well then I guess it’s about time we learned the parts we were missing,” Steve insisted, and reached out to lay his hand over Bucky’s. He was trembling, but his grip was firm when he squeezed, and all the air rushed out of Bucky.

“Right. Screw the drinks,” Bucky declared. He just barely stopped himself from adding ‘I’d rather screw you’... and thought he might not be imagining that he saw the same hastily suppressed words flash through Steve’s eyes.

Feeling giddy - which was not a sensation he was accustomed to, and he wished he could blame the lousy beer instead of a Goddamned schoolgirl crush - Bucky turned his hand over to catch Steve’s tightly, and hauled his friend away from the bar. Not that it took much hauling; Steve followed him eagerly, nearly tripping over his own feet in that awkward way he had when he was nervous.

Holding hands inside the bar was one thing, but outside was something else. The cops mostly left Gloria’s and the other bars alone, paid off by the mob to turn the other cheek, but that didn’t mean they weren’t wandering around in the area. The last thing Steve and Bucky needed right now was to be arrested for indecency.

While Bucky was hesitating, considering the pros and cons of releasing Steve’s hand until they reached their apartment, Steve apparently got tired of waiting for him. With his fingers still wrapped firmly around Bucky’s, Steve gave him an impatient look and then he was the one tugging instead.

Chuckling, Bucky gave in and followed him. Hell, he’d always follow Steve’s lead, anywhere his friend wanted to go.

They made it safely back to the tenement building where they’d gone halves on a rented room a few months back. The stairs were too narrow to go side-by-side and too steep to risk hanging on to each other while going one-by-one, so reluctantly they let go. Bucky let Steve go up first as always, because otherwise Bucky might forget and go too fast. Steve, stubborn idiot that he was, would never let Bucky get too far ahead, and sometimes he pushed himself into a damned asthma attack.

Soothing him through one of those was not what Bucky had in mind for the rest of the evening. Finding a different way to give him one, maybe, though hopefully not.

Steve had, of course, absent-mindedly tucked his key away somewhere and couldn’t find it quickly, so Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved him out of the way to open the door. Oddly enough the familiar routine was off-putting, so very platonic and mundane that Bucky started to doubt himself. Was this really happening? Did Steve _really_ want him? Even if he did, what if they did this and it made everything weird, afterwards?

Hell, he didn’t even know _what_ Steve wanted. Though for him, Bucky thought he’d be willing to do just about anything and count himself lucky for the chance. 

Uncertain, he shoved his hands in his pockets without thinking. Steve finished locking the door and turned with his hand already reaching out, but aborted the gesture abruptly when he realized Bucky’s were no longer available. Cursing, Bucky wondered if it would be too obvious or seem patronizing if he now pulled his hands out to reach for Steve instead.

He’d never felt so awkward with a partner before, but again, this was _Steve_. It mattered, it mattered more than anything had ever mattered in Bucky’s whole entire life up to this moment, and that made all the difference in the world.

“Do you, uh, go to that kind of place often?” he asked, fishing desperately for some way to break through the unfamiliar and uncomfortable barrier that seemed to be forming between them. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of, that it would make things strange or drive Steve away.

Flushing, Steve shook his head. “A couple of times,” he admitted hoarsely, and tucked his hands in his pockets as well. “I was walking by Benny’s one night on the way home from a date a while back and this fella, he musta thought I was heading there because he invited me to go in with him. And you know, after the way that dame had shut me down, it felt damned good to have someone interested in me. So I said yeah.”

The spike of jealousy that stabbed Bucky at the idea of Steve going with another guy was unexpectedly intense. He had to just breathe for a second, getting himself back under control. “Obviously you never brought anyone back here. Did you ever...?”

That made his friend blush harder, and Steve shrugged awkwardly. “Nah. Never felt right. Pissed a couple guys off pretty bad for leading ‘em on, but...” He lifted his eyes and met Bucky’s, anxious but determined. “Wasn’t interested in the end. None of ‘em were you.”

“Hell, Stevie.” Bucky felt heat sweep over his own cheeks, prickling the skin. “Now you’re making me feel guilty or something.” Christ, it wasn’t like he’d been unfaithful. Why did he feel like he’d done something wrong? It was no different than if he’d followed through with all those girls Steve _thought_ he’d been with. 

Thankfully, Steve’s reaction to the indirect information that Bucky _had_ gone home with other people was amusement. “Why? Probably best that one of us knows what we’re doing, anyway.” He hesitated, and licked his lips. “We are doing this, right?”

Closing his eyes briefly, Bucky offered a silent prayer of relief. Even though it felt kinda blasphemous to be praying in thanks for confirmation that his best friend definitely wanted to have sex with him. “Fuck yeah, we are.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Bucky closed the distance between them and slid his fingers into the short hair at the back of Steve’s neck, thumbs brushing the back edges of his jaw. Steve groaned and tilted his face up, his hands coming up to clutch at Bucky’s shoulders, and their lips met for the first time.

A million previous fantasies ran through Bucky’s mind in an instant, the memory of every time - and oh, there had been so many, _many_ times - he’d thought about kissing Steve. About what his friend’s lips would feel like. What his friend’s mouth would taste like. What his friend’s body would feel like.

Dry and chapped; chili fries and cheap beer; bony and sharp, in that order. Well, that last one he’d known already.

Reality didn’t live up to the fantasies.

It fucking _blew them out of the water_.

Those dry, chapped lips worked against his, tongue slipping out to taste him in return. It was clear Steve had no real idea what the hell he was doing, but he was enthusiastic and learning fast. Beneath the chili and beer was a spicy taste that Bucky found instantly addictive, one hundred percent Steve. And that sharp, bony body... God.

Groaning, Bucky took a step closer to press them more tightly together. He was already hard, the knowledge that this was _Steve_ enough to make him hyper aware of every taste, scent, sound, and most especially touch. 

Steve took the hint, gripping Bucky’s shoulder tighter with one hand to give him the stability to rise up on his toes until their hips were grinding together. His other hand fisted in Bucky’s hair in turn, and suddenly Steve was the one in command of the kiss.

He shoved and Bucky went willingly, one careful step at a time to make sure they didn’t break contact, until the back of his knees hit one of their beds and he collapsed onto it. Steve followed him down, perched on his lap with his knees on the mattress, and that was even better because it meant they were lined up properly. Bucky dropped his hands to Steve’s hips, yanking him closer to grind their dicks together once more.

With the hand in his hair Steve urged Bucky to tilt his head back, allowing him to deepen the kiss further. He was still a little sloppy and unpracticed, but he was getting better with every swipe of his tongue and when he closed his teeth on Bucky’s lip it was heaven.

For some reason that was unimaginable to Bucky, people always seemed to think that because he was the bigger and more outgoing member of their duo, it meant he was also the dominant one. The truth was that he’d been following Stevie since the day they’d met, and he knew he’d probably follow the damned kid to his grave. 

When Bucky wanted something from Steve he coaxed and cajoled, because anything that smacked of an order would make Steve dig his heels in and balk. But when Steve wanted something from Bucky he’d just make a statement, even if it was framed as a request, and Bucky inevitably gave in. Didn’t matter what they were doing - going to get ice cream or jumping into a brawl, Steve was always the one in the lead.

One of these days Bucky swore he was going to learn to say ‘no’ to Steve. Today was _not_ going to be that day, and God, he really didn’t want it to be.

Sliding his hands up from his friend’s hips, Bucky burrowed beneath Steve’s sweater. Of course the guy was wearing at least three layers, he got cold so damned easily, so it wasn’t easy to get to skin. Finally Bucky got to the undershirt and yanked it out of Steve’s pants, letting him run his fingers up over Steve’s chest to tweak at his nipples.

Breaking the kiss, Steve rested his cheek against Bucky’s and panted for air. “God, Buck…”

“Would you… do you wanna fuck me?” Bucky blurted out, before he could lose his nerve. He’d be fine with only touching or whatever if that was what Steve wanted, or even doing it the other way around, but he’d never know if he didn’t ask. 

Steve shuddered all over and clenched his hands hard, and Bucky thought he’d made a mistake until he pulled back enough to see the searing heat in his friend’s eyes. “You’d let me?” Steve breathed out, eager and needy. He looked like Bucky had just promised that tonight was Christmas _and_ his birthday.

“Let you? Hell, Steve, I’d beg if you wanted,” Bucky half laughed, and Steve groaned in a way that suggested it wasn’t an unappealing thought.

“Not if you want me to last more than five minutes,” Steve muttered, flushing brightly. “What do I do?”

“Clothes off, first,” Bucky pointed out, and the next few moments were a mad scramble to divest themselves of their clothing as fast as possible.

While Steve was still shucking his last layers Bucky reluctantly left the bed and hit the kitchen for some lard. Steve tilted his head questioningly when he saw the tin, and Bucky chuckled. “Trust me, it’s a LOT more comfortable this way.”

Catching on, Steve nodded, though that blush was still riding high on his cheeks. Hopefully some of it was arousal, not just embarrassment. 

They’d seen each other naked before, of course, plenty of times. This was the first time Bucky had ever been allowed to _look_ , though. He’d snatched the occasional glance, though he’d had to be careful not to peek too long or he’d give himself away, either by Steve catching him at it or by his reaction.

Now he could look his fill, drink in the sight of Steve to sate the parched need in his soul. 

He understood why it was so difficult for other people to comprehend the sheer size of the heart that lived inside that starved-looking chest. Others looked at Steve and saw the bony ribs, the sloping shoulders, the faint curve to his spine, and they dismissed him as weak.

Bucky looked at Steve and saw someone who had never let any of that keep him from anything he wanted, whose frail body only emphasized and highlighted his strength. Goddamned beautiful was what he was.

Steve was giving him the same once over, heat burning in his eyes as his gaze dropped slowly over Bucky’s body. His lips were slightly parted, and when his tongue flicked out to moisten them Bucky groaned. The sound made Steve’s eyes jerk back up to his, and whatever he saw in Bucky’s gaze seemed to inflame Steve further.

“So what’re you doing all the way over there?” Steve demanded breathlessly, patting the bed beside him. 

Unable to resist as always, Bucky made his way over and dropped down onto the mattress. The tin of lard got lost somewhere in the blankets as he leaned over Steve and kissed him again. Steve got his hand back in Bucky’s hair, gripping tight enough to be felt but not quite enough to hurt. His other hand was on Bucky’s chest, exploring curiously.

Bucky returned the favour, bracing himself on one hand but running the other slowly down Steve’s side. His fingers walked over the ridges of the other man’s ribs, down along the concave curve of his waist, tracing the contours of his hipbone. From there it was a short hop to where he really wanted to be, and he wrapped his hand around Steve’s dick with a groan that was almost more relief than need. _Finally_.

There was nothing too small or skinny about this part of Steve, especially as the flesh swelled harder still under Bucky’s hand. Steve gasped against his mouth and his hips jerked up into Bucky’s touch; unless there was something he’d never told Bucky about, it was the first time anyone else had ever put a hand on him.

Just as Bucky was starting to feel smug, Steve turned the tables on him. He slid both hands down to curl around Bucky’s dick, one pumping slowly while the other teased at his foreskin. _This_ , Steve wasn’t in the least hesitant or unpracticed about, and his slender and sensitive artist’s fingers felt better than Bucky’s callused hand ever had. It was Bucky’s turn to jerk and gasp, shivering under the onslaught of everything he’d ever wanted.

He let it go on as long as he could stand it, returning the favour in fits and starts whenever his mind wasn’t too blown to remember. As good as it felt, though, this wasn’t how Bucky wanted the evening to end. “Enough,” he pleaded, pulling away from Steve’s mouth and leaning his head against his friend’s shoulder, panting desperately for air. “Stevie, enough, I can’t... I want to come with you inside me.”

“Tell me what to do.” Steve’s voice was firm, and when Bucky looked up he saw nothing but heat and pure stubborn determination in his friend’s eyes. Any trace of hesitancy or uncertainty was gone, as if he’d convinced himself this was real and that was enough to erase his doubts.

“Take the lard,” Bucky told him, hoarse and unsteady. “Grease your hand and... and work me open. One finger at a time.”

“Right.” Steve took a deep breath, then hunted around in the covers until he found the abandoned tin. “On your knees.”

God, this was really happening. Breathless with anticipation and arousal, Bucky shifted around until he was kneeling as ordered, forearms on the mattress and head braced against his crossed wrists. Other guys he’d been with had made it clear they liked how this position arched his back to present his ass. The strangled little moan Steve gave suggested he wasn’t an exception.

He heard Steve open the tin, and then he felt his friend’s hand on his ass. Closing his eyes, Bucky concentrated on breathing slow and steady, relaxing as best he could considering how tense he was - not from fear or nerves, but sheer eagerness.

Slowly Steve worked a finger inside him, the digit so slender it didn’t stretch him much. It felt good even without the sting, though, slippery and intimate, touching places inside of him that nothing had ever been meant to touch. Bucky loved that first feeling of invasion, the moment when he surrendered himself to the knowledge that someone else was about to become a part of him, however briefly. And this time that someone was Steve. 

He’d never be able to settle for anyone else, again. 

“You can do two,” he gasped. Steve obligingly withdrew and added a second finger when he pressed back in. Bucky groaned, feeling the burn of the stretch now, and it was _so good_. It was a filthy, forbidden act, all the more enticing for its illicit nature.

“Like that?” Steve asked, and his voice was deeper than usual, husky and smug. 

“Yeah,” Bucky rasped. “Yeah, just... work them in and out and... oh _God_ , Steve,” he moaned as his friend obeyed. Better yet, he twisted his hand with each motion, turning it into a corkscrew gesture that stretched Bucky further. He brushed against that spot inside that always made Bucky see stars, and Bucky gave a strangled shout and rocked his hips into the contact.

“Jesus.” Steve sounded downright reverent, and his voice had gone shaky again. Not with nerves, just pure, unadulterated lust. “What the hell was that?”

“Nnngh. The main reason I like doing it this way,” Bucky admitted with a soft laugh. “Gimme another one, please?”

The third finger was the tipping point, turning pleasure into ecstasy and making Bucky’s eyes roll back as his dick jumped despite a total lack of attention. “Shit,” he breathed out, shivering. “Shit, Steve. Please, God, _please_ I need you. Fuck me.”

Leaning over him, Steve draped himself over Bucky’s back, his dick hard and hot against Bucky’s inner thigh. “Tell me you’ve always been safe,” Steve asked, demanded. “Tell me I don’t need a rubber.”

“A rubber!” Bucky choked on a laugh, and turned his head to let him see his friend. “Christ, Steve, it’s not like you can knock me up.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s exclamation held a mixture of exasperation and dismay. “Damn it, I know you got the same lecture from my mom that I did, ‘cause I was there. Did you think the rest of it only matters if your partner’s a girl, too?”

The memory of the very frank, explicit, and educational lecture Mrs. Rogers had given both of them on Steve’s twelfth birthday wasn’t something Bucky was likely to ever forget, though some of the details were lost in the haze of squirming embarrassment he’d felt at the time. As a nurse, she’d known all the different diseases that could happen to guys who were careless, and she’d made sure the two of them knew, too. She hadn’t held back on the gory descriptions of the worst possible end results, either.

Bucky was ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought about it much recently. “None of the other guys ever...” he began, even though he knew it was an excuse.

Steve cut him off with a smack across the back of his head, withdrawing his fingers and making Bucky whine with the loss. “Don’t start,” Steve scolded. “You’re going to the clinic first thing tomorrow to get checked out.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky argued, and Steve glared at him.

“You might not know if you had anything, Buck. C’mon, I’ve got enough health problems. You wanna give me the bug that maybe finishes me off?”

“Shit.” That honestly hadn’t even occurred to Bucky. Steve was right, the last thing he needed was something _else_ to fuck up his body. Now Bucky was cursing himself for those moments of temptation and weakness in the past. “Does that mean we’re not doing this after all?”

“It means it’s a damned good thing one of us is smart enough to be careful,” Steve retorted, and leaned over to fish his discarded pants out of the pile. He pulled his wallet out of the back pocket and a rubber out of that, then discarded pants and wallet both to the ground.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said you never went with any of those guys?”

“I was still _thinking_ about it,” Steve replied. “I figured better to have one and not need it than want one and not have it. Good thing, too.”

Bucky had to acknowledge that was true, because if it hadn’t been available he was pretty sure he’d have been left to finish himself off the old-fashioned, unsatisfying way. Steve was mad enough at him to refuse to do anything else if they couldn’t have what they both really wanted.

Hell, he half thought Steve might actually be mad enough at him to be thinking about refusing to continue, anyway.

Rolling over, Bucky tugged his friend into another kiss, lips and tongue coaxing and teasing at Steve’s, trying to wheedle him back into a better mood. Steve sighed and Bucky could feel the tension drain out of him, and then he was kissing back just as enthusiastically. 

With hands shaking faintly with need, Bucky snagged the rubber out of Steve’s grip and placed it over his friend’s dick, easing it down over the hard shaft. Steve groaned and rocked up into the touch, fisting Bucky’s hair again and biting at his lips. 

“C’mon, pal, I need you,” Bucky murmured, dropping back to lie on the bed and pulling Steve down after him. “Please.”

Yeah, Steve really didn’t seem to mind the begging. With a sound that was close to a growl Steve surged over him, one hand braced on the mattress as he used the other to line himself up against Bucky’s ass. His eyes squeezed shut tightly as he pressed forward, a grunt of disbelieving pleasure escaping him as the head of his dick forced past the tight muscle at the entrance of Bucky’s body.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped, closing his own eyes as he arched into the invasion. This, this was the moment he really loved, the sweet stinging burn and feeling of uncomfortable fullness, the pressure inside him a sharp contrast to the drag of Steve’s stomach against his dick. 

Without hesitation Steve withdrew again, then thrust home once more, faster this time. He repeated the motion again, and again, faster and harder each time as Bucky’s body loosened and relaxed. Bucky clung to his friend’s shoulders like an anchor to keep him from drowning in the sensations, but it wasn’t helping much.

The physical aspect of it was always overwhelming, a rush of heat and need and desire that pooled in his groin and built and built until he was sure the pressure within would cause him to explode. The extra stab of pleasure every time Steve pushed against that place inside him drove him higher and higher, and Bucky was gasping in what seemed like only minutes.

But unlike every other time he’d done this, the physical part wasn’t what was threatening to carry him away. It was the emotions that caught him by surprise, the affection and loyalty and _love_ that rushed through him, heightening the intensity of the sensations until it all threatened to spiral out of control. He never wanted it to end, even as he strained hard to reach the peak. 

He’d never needed or wanted anything as badly in his life as he wanted to feel Steve come inside him right that moment.

There was a murmur of sound that he hadn’t registered as anything but noise, but it slowly came into focus as Bucky realized it was Steve muttering a litany of words into his ear. “God, Bucky, you’re so damned tight, you feel incredible, amazing, I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t take it, God, it’s too much...”

“Yeah,” was the only coherent thing Bucky could seem to say in reply. He struggled with himself for a moment, and managed to come up with “Please,” as an alternative, broken and begging.

“Come for me,” Steve insisted, breathless and husky. “I don’t want to go without you, I wanna feel you first. Come for me, Bucky.”

Like every other demand Steve had ever made of him, Bucky found himself unable and unwilling to say ‘no’, even though he desperately didn’t want this to end. Working his hand between them, he caught his dick in a tight fist and pumped in time with the movements of Steve’s hips.

It was too much; a couple more thrusts was all it took before Bucky was crying out, spunk spilling over his hand as his dick pulsed with his release. He felt his body tighten around Steve, squeezing hard as he shuddered, hyper aware of every inch of his friend inside him.

With a low groan Steve thrust hard one last time, as deep as he could get, and stilled there as his body shuddered. He was panting harshly, his forehead sinking to rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky could feel him trembling with the effort of exertion and – hopefully - emotional aftermath.

Reaching up, Bucky caught him around the shoulders and tugged him down, urging until Steve gave in and collapsed against his chest. “Jesus, Buck,” Steve murmured, dazed.

“Yeah,” Bucky said again, still unable to come up with anything much more intelligent to say. His head was spinning, and he could feel Steve inside him, softening slowly. He knew they should disengage, clean up, but the end of the world wouldn’t have been enough to make him want to move.

Unfortunately they couldn’t stay that way forever. Steve’s shivering started to become less about pleasure and more about chill as the sweat cooled on their bodies. Groaning, Bucky nudged him off, shuddering as Steve pulled out of him and left him empty and aching.

Steve got rid of the rubber and turned out the lamp on the bedside table, while Bucky wrestled the covers out from under them and over their bodies. He didn’t even think about moving to his own bed, though the mattress was hardly wide enough for one of them. If Steve hadn’t been such a skinny little punk they’d never have fit, but as it was they just managed with Steve on his side, tucked up against Bucky.

“What the hell were we thinking?” Steve muttered, and Bucky felt his heart stop in his chest. Was Steve regretting it that badly? _Already_? 

“We could’ve been doing this since we were fifteen. Six years wasted,” Steve continued with fervent regret for the lost time, and Bucky sighed in relief as his heart restarted.

Then he laughed, muffling the sound by nuzzling against Steve’s throat. “Fifteen? Try twelve, pal. I’ve wanted you since I knew what desire _was_.”

“Well, I dunno if we’d have been doing _this_ when we were twelve,” Steve said, and Bucky had to concede the point. “Hitting the first base or two, maybe.”

He cuddled closer still, and Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders to help hold him in place lest he roll off the edge of the mattress. And just to have the contact, honestly. “No more double dates, I guess?”

Steve made a thoughtful noise and considered the question with a serious expression. “Well, that depends,” he finally said. “I still wanna have a family some day, don’t you? That kinda requires a dame to be involved.”

“I do like the dancing,” Bucky admitted. The mob paid the cops to look the other way as far as the bars were concerned, but there were limits to what the cops would tolerate. Dancing joints were right out, too far on the side of blatantly lewd and offensive behaviour. Nor would the guys that frequented Gloria’s likely be interested in doing the sort of fancy stepping dance Bucky enjoyed with the girls.

“Speak for yourself, they always leave me on the sidelines,” Steve grumbled, and Bucky laughed. “So we can go out, just maybe not every weekend. We’ll give ‘em a chance to be interesting, and if it doesn’t work out, well, we’ve got something better to look forward to than hitting a bar after.”

“Sounds like a hell of a plan,” Bucky agreed, sighing in contentment. “Just promise you’ll still be here in the morning, because if I wake up and this was all a dream, I’m gonna scream.”

“I promise if you do,” Steve replied, starting to sound drowsy. “And hey, this way we can save on heating, too. Might need to push the beds together or something.”

Chuckling, Bucky closed his eyes and relaxed, settling himself. With Steve curled against him the lumpy, too-small mattress felt like pure heaven. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this good.

“I love you, Buck,” he heard Steve whisper, almost too soft to make out. “I always have.”

“I love you too, Stevie,” Bucky replied, just as quiet. He wasn’t sure if Steve heard him or not, because it sure looked like his friend was already asleep.

It didn’t really matter. There would be plenty of chances to say it again, later.

**Author's Note:**

> Gloria's was a real gay bar in New York. It was closed down by the removal of its liquor license in 1939 and is best known for having been the first of the gay bars to fight back against the closure. Little piece of LGBTQ history for you. ^_^
> 
> Many thanks to NocturnalRites for a fabulous beta job.


End file.
